Sometimes life moves at a snails pace, creeping steadily but imperceptibly on. Sometimes life seems to stand still as if winter has descended and frozen time instead of water. Sometimes I just want to skip ahead to the important parts: Like the part where I move to Arizona and spend way too many hours working odd jobs to pay for school. Or the part where I meet the rag tag group of characters that eventually become the friends I always needed. The part where Friday nights become weekly traditions involving dive bars, food carts, and going to drag shows on karaoke night. The part where I do something utterly embarrassing that introduces me to that guy people always told me I would find. The part when I finally land the dream job and we all celebrate by going out to that absurdly expensive restaurant in our department store finery and make fun of the glares we get from the maître'd. The part when you get your big break and I get into the perfect graduate school, and as wonderful as life seems, for a moment it looks like everything is ending. The part where I go off to the east coast, get that internship I've always wanted at a bigger company, and have a string of horrible dates that make me want to give up and buy a cat (but I won't). The part where you make a name for yourself, get a new girlfriend that has everyone talking, and start going on all those adventures you always told me you would. The part where we slowly lose touch. The part where, due to some unseen force, we run into each other years later. And we catch up. And we realize we never fell out of love and nothing that really matters has changed at all. The part where we get back together, and you ask me to move in... The part where we spend the first night sleeping on the living room floor on a rapidly deflating air mattress with the smell of take-out lingering in the air because the movers got lost and we never got around to actually buying groceries. The part where the old lady downstairs calls the landlord because there is water coming from the ceiling. And the part where I open the door with the landlord to see that you flooded the kitchen trying to fix the sink... After you dropped the ring down it. My ring. Which is also the moment I say yes. The part where we get married. With all our friends there, both new and old all the way back to Arizona, and the cake falls over just as our photographer is about to take a picture. The part where we are laying on the living room floor under the mantle that holds the twin to my parents' wedding picture (where you are holding the cake up and I have my head thrown back laughing) and we decide to start a family... And by that I mean we get a dog. The part a few years later where that terror of a dog runs out of the bathroom and drops a pregnancy test in your lap while you're watching TV and I'm yelling at it to "get its ass back here" and all you can manage to say is "oh shit". The part where our world changes. The part where I'm laying in the hospital bed with my legs in stirrups screaming, crying, blaming you for everything, and telling you I hate you. The part where we hear our child's first cry. and I take it all back. The part where we're taking pictures on the first day of kindergarten and checking under the bed for monsters one moment and threatening prom dates and addressing graduation announcements the next. The part where they leave home and we smile and wave as they drive off. The part where they round the corner and I break down in tears and you remind me that this has to happen. That soon they will be working too many hours at odd jobs, meeting crazy friends of their own, and utterly embarrassing themselves just like we did. The part where we grow old together. And the dog dies. Which has us writing wills and cuddling closer at night. And we dance with our child, who is no longer a child, at their wedding. We spoil grandchildren and attend soccer games, school plays, and recitals. We go on all those adventures that we dreamt up years ago before we found excuses not to go. We try to spice up our love life, and end up laughing uncontrollably when we have to stop because of a hip cramp or a back strain that wasn't there 30 years ago. The part where I wear your promise on my finger and your name on my heart. The part where we become a love story, a success story, and a living history all at once. Sometimes I just want to skip ahead to the important parts, but then I realize, they are all important parts.
